Yeah, Just One Name You Got A Problem With That?
by Manchester
Summary: Another entry in the "I Want YOU For The New Council!" series. The whole town of Amity Island turns out to see something truly unbelievable in the harbor…


At exactly the right point, Martin Brody shifted the engines of the patrol boat into neutral, while at the same time spinning the wheel to cause the small craft to turn to starboard. Slowly drifting in its curve through the calm waters, the vessel was soon brought to a complete halt by the tug of the cable leading back to the other boat it was towing. The patrol boat had, however, still passed onto the larger craft enough momentum so that what remained of the _Orca_ now also turned, fully presenting itself and its cargo to the entire harbor, which was at this moment jam-packed with spectators. A loud, amazed roar consisting of awed cheers and yells of astonished approval instantly arose from the massive crowd lining every inch of the surrounding docks and wharves.

Shutting off the engines and turning to step away from the controls, the police chief joined Matt Hooper at the stern, who for the first time during their entire journey to find and retrieve the missing boat then looked over from incredulously staring at the _Orca._ The marine biologist glanced at Brody from out of the corner of his eye, which was returned in kind. An unspoken message passed between the two men, each silently admitting to the other they were both _really_ glad they hadn't gone on their scheduled trip in the same boat there last night. This shared sense of absolute relief was quite different from how Brody and Hooper had angrily felt when they'd arrived at the spot in the harbor after dark where the _Orca_ had previously been docked. Then, there'd only been an empty space and a total lack of any form of fishing vessel and its hard-as-nails captain.

Fuming, the policeman and the scientist had gone to the harbormaster's office, only to be told the boat named after a killer whale had sailed hours ago without warning. Any attempt to contact the missing craft completely failed, and it was only this morning when a search plane had found the _Orca_ drifting helplessly several miles offshore. Brody and Hooper immediately took the town's police patrol boat to this location, and they'd then numbly rigged up a tow to bring back to port what was left of the other boat.

Returning their gazes to the craft wallowing in the harbor waters, both men tried not to think what it must've been like sometime last night, when the multi-ton great white shark they'd been about to hunt for had hurled its enormous body from out of the ocean to land onto the deck of the boat. From the looks of things, the shark had then used its gaping mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, each nearly a foot long, to bite and shred the entire cabin superstructure into splinters. The sole thing now above the waterline was the hull of the _Orca_ - and one very dead shark.

Lying limply atop the ruins of the cabin, the corpse of the most fearsome beast in the ocean blankly gazed ahead with lifeless eyes. Stretching the full length of the boat and even further, with its tail dangling off the stern, this man-eater had to be at least thirty feet long. Which made something else even more remarkable. To be precise, the slim shaft of metal protruding from the top of the fish's head, which was all what could be seen of the end of a harpoon that had obviously been deeply rammed into the monster's body during some savage battle.

At no point since they'd come across the _Orca_ had Brody or Hooper found any trace of Quint the shark hunter.

* * *

Standing side-by-side in the front of the second-story window of their motel room, which overlooked the harbor and its mob of people gawking in sheer fascination, the one-eyed man on the left said dryly, "Well, you just became a legend. It took a lot more work and trouble that I honestly wanted to go through, but it's done. Can we leave now?"

Instead of answering, the other man in the room continued to stare out past the window, to where the wrecked boat and its piscine contents continued to drift in the harbor. Absently noting his reflection in the window glass, this man's fingers reached up to touch his face, which no longer looked like a former fisherman.

Sighing, Xander Harris tried to reassure someone he wasn't really sure was listening, "Listen, the glamour on you will turn off the minute we arrive at my home dimension. You'll be back to normal, okay?"

At last turning away from the window, Quint eyed the exasperated guy across from him, who only a day ago had completely upset the seaman's whole world. But then, being given some sort of futuristic device the size of his hand which played a movie showing exactly how you were going to be killed by a particularly fake-looking shark would genuinely unnerve anyone. The even weirder spiel which had come next, accompanied with actual proof about alternate dimensions, magic, the New Council, Slayers, and evil creatures of the night perfectly willing to snack on humanity, had been equally difficult to believe.

Oddly enough, what convinced the older man of the truth of everything was this Xander fella's straightforward declaration about his reason for meeting the master of the _Orca_ in the first place. He wanted to recruit Quint for the New Council. Whose accepting response then had been just as succinct as the offer itself: "Why the hell not?"

Quint had his own reasons for this, which he mainly preferred to keep private. For one, there was the whole eaten-alive thing, though he could've avoided it by instantly moving to, say, Nebraska. Still, Xander had then sheepishly confirmed there were real, actual demons at his home who could devour any shark in existence with a single bite.

_That_ had pretty much clinched the whole deal. The fact was, over the past few years, Quint had started to find shark catching becoming a little…boring. Nope, life in the other place sounded much more exciting than here, making positively humdrum even last night's team-up with Xander in finding and disposing of the little fishy out there already bought and paid for.

So, now that he'd finally had his fun in showing for once and all every asshole in town that Quint was the best damned shark hunter ever born, it was time to leave. The sea captain wasn't bothered at all by the prospect of never coming back here, since he'd always figured his home to be where his head hit the pillow every night. A place filled with superhuman girls sounded really interesting, too. Speaking of where they were going…

Rubbing at his different face again, the latest recruit for the New Council asked a bit doubtfully, "You're sure I'm not gonna have too much trouble at your home, looking exactly like the guy in the movie?"

Pulling his dimensional transporter out of a jeans pocket, Xander casually shrugged as he replied, "Robert Shaw died in 1978. It's true he's most famous for his role in _Jaws,_ but if people get too nosy, you could just wear another magical disguise anytime you like, provided by us."

Quint thought this over for a few moments, to in the end nod with easy agreement, "I'll see how it goes." Looking with interest at the doohickey his companion was holding, the fisherman now started to quietly hum under his breath in preparation for their departure.

Just about to send themselves across the innumerable dimensions, Xander Harris paused, to then grin from ear-to-ear, as he joined in on a very familiar song. An instant later, only the final musical sounds of "_Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish Ladies" _were left behind, hanging in the air of the otherwise empty motel room.


End file.
